Competitive Driving (according to drivers in 1964)
There’s one bookshop in Brackley. It’s in an old hall, the kind of place that looks like a house and that has a heavy, solid front door. The first time I dared to go in, I worried I was letting myself into someone’s living room. Inside, it’s still laid out like a house. The creaky wooden floorboards, high ceilings, and tall windows make it a beautiful space for browsing books.
At the back of the building is a room of second-hand books, and half of a shelf in the back corner of the room, next to the (disused) fireplace is dedicated to automotive and motorsport books. There are books that don’t really interest me, like a workshop manual for a 1990s Ford. The books that do grab me are the ones about ‘current’ motorsport, but from 50+ years ago. I’m curious about what people wrote about motorsport back then. How similar is motorsport then compared to now? And how is it different?
One book I picked up recently is ‘Competitive Driving’, edited by Peter Roberts. Published in 1967 and originally on sale only to members of the Motoraces Book Club, it has a dark blue dust jacket and smells like it’s nearly 60 years old. It cost me £2.95 and has 141 pages.
The book opens with this paragraph:
“The average enthusiast rarely gets nearer to a prominent sporting driver than the front seat of the grandstand, or perhaps a brief glimpse in the paddock. All he normally sees is a visored head, a pair of gloves on the steering wheel, a distant overalled figure in the pits.”
Make that ‘he’ a little more inclusive and that could be the opening paragraph to a book about motorsport in 2025. Sure, there are exceptions, but for the most part if you’re paying for a grandstand ticket to a race, you’re not seeing any of the drivers up close.
The book is split into eight chapters, with each chapter being given to a driver from a different discipline who shares their views and stories on motorsport. At some point I’ll put together a longer blog post with pictures and quotes, but there are a few really fun ones I want to share with you right away.
In Chapter 1, Mike Parkes (a GT driver) talks about being invited to drive a Ferrari at Le Mans, saying “as such a message was tantamount to a command,” he accepted. That quote reminds me of Sebastian Vettel and his “everybody is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.” Has anyone ever said ‘no’ in response to an invitation to drive a Ferrari? I can’t imagine Vasseur had to get on his knees and beg Lewis to move to Ferrari this year.
Chapter 2 sees F1 driver Innes Ireland sounding eerily like a past version of Lando Norris. On the subject of his first Grand Prix (which took place at Zandvoort in 1959), he said “Breakfast was impossible. I played a round of miniature golf in an effort to calm my nerves, but with little effect. I had a chat with Stirling Moss, whom I had never met before, I listened to a few words of comfort from Colin Chapman, but it did nothing to relieve my feeling of sheer physical sickness which increased as the start-time approached.” I can’t find the original source of the interview, but in September(ish) last year, Lando said, “I barely eat anything on Sundays. I struggle to drink anything on Sundays, just because of nerves and because of pressure.” Two people with pretty much the exact same feeling, 60 years apart.
Ireland finishes his chapter with talk of the costs of racing, and how expensive it is for the smaller teams especially. Drivers are somewhat well paid, earning similar amounts to pop singers, though facing far greater risks during their work. He ends his chapter with, “But when the road ribbons out in front of the car, the smell of oil and tyres burns the lungs, the pack bays around you and the pulsing power of your car screams behind your ears - who worries about money?” Fascinating insight into how the drivers actually think. I could never be a racing driver - I tried it once. I did a test day in a kart. I got white-flagged. I don’t have that competitive streak and I get scared being so close to the ground at such speeds. No racing for me, I’ll definitely stick to officiating.
Chapter 4 has rally driver John Sprinzel lamenting the state of British rallying compared to the rest of Europe, and how much he loves rallying in poor weather. According to him, “a fair-weather rally in Europe is only a gastronomic tour.” If that’s still true today, how long until we see food-loving Yuki Tsunoda take up rallying?
In Chapter 6, hill climber Tony Marsh talks about his love of hill climbing. It’s not a motorsport discipline I’d really paid much attention to before - what’s so interesting about people driving up a hill one by one? But Tony makes a very good case and I’ll definitely be trying to find some hill climbing to watch this year. I’m on a committee at Motorsport UK with some people involved in hill climbing, so perhaps I can wrangle an invitation (or at least a recommendation!) for somewhere fun.
One interesting point Tony makes is about whether F1 is more sport, or more entertainment. Remember, this view was from the 1960s. “Grand Prix racing, for instance, is now a branch of the entertainment business, maintained not only for public interest and the competitive essays of the drivers but to further sales of the products of fuel and tyre companies. Better this than no sport, and without doubt it is an excellent way of contributing to the enormous costs of mounting a season’s racing, but, nevertheless, like football matches, the most significant races are now part of the show-business world.” One small point about that quote is that this was from before the cars became completely covered in sponsors like they are these days. I wonder what Tony would make of the modern-day events in Las Vegas and Miami. Would see them purely as existing for entertainment, or could he appreciate the sporting aspect to them?
The last chapter is from racing-school owner and instructor Jim Russell. The language he uses is dated compared to today’s standards - and indeed the book as several pages of photos, including one of a woman taking part in his driving school which is captioned with “When this pupil qualifies motor sport could achieve new heights of popularity” which is so sexist I actually laughed out loud. Women do get one mention in his chapter though, in a paragraph talking about the costs of participating in motor sport. “If a pupil wishes to bring his girl-friend with him he may do so - in any case, she is probably entitled to be there as part-financier of his course.” I feel like the wives-and-girlfriends back then were more involved in the finance side of things than they are today (where the money more commonly comes from corporate sponsors), but that’s a topic to explore for another day.
The book ends with definitions of the different types of motorsport (in case you want to have a go), as well as a list of motorsport clubs in the UK (in case you want to sign up). I actually did sign up for my RS Clubman licence this year, because I’d like to have a go in stuff like navigation scatters, and treasure hunts. A treasure hunt is, according to this book from 1967, “an event involving the performance of certain tasks or solution of certain problems in which the use of a car is merely incidental as a means of transport and the skill or experience of a driver plays no part.” That sounds much more like my level of competitive driving!
That brings us to the end of this - my first! - newsletter. In issue #2, I’ll share some of my motorsport background as well as my plans for the year, and we’ll see what other books jump off my bookshelf.
Lots of love, kind regards, or however else you’re supposed to end a newsletter. I hope February brings you warmth. <3